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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28696662">Just some unforgiving angst</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodgaymckay/pseuds/goodgaymckay'>goodgaymckay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Misfits (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cutting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm, Sensory Overload</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:20:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28696662</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodgaymckay/pseuds/goodgaymckay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz has a panic attack due to sensory overload and cuts himself in Ryan’s bathroom :)<br/>//<br/>I projected massively onto fitz here hello</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cam | GoodGuyFitz/Matt | iNoToRiOuS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Just some unforgiving angst</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Cam slinked his way to the bathroom, overstimulation of his senses as the loudness in Ryan’s house became too much, the smell of weed no longer being comforting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ran the faucet in the sink and sat on top of the closed lid of the toilet, his arms wrapping around himself as his mind fumbled for comfort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His body wasn’t relaxing but his mind was slowing down, his hands moving to see what was in his pockets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cameron hated his phone, so he turned it off. There was nothing to play with in his wallet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he sees it, the boxcutter next to his wallet on the counter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shimmies his jeans off and rolls his boxers up, pressing the blade in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It drags across lightly, a raised bump appears in its wake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The slit in the bump begins to fill with red. It bulges and sits as a little bubble shape atop it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He does another underneath it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He presses it in deeper and </span>
  <em>
    <span>swipes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, watching the white styrofoam looking flesh fill with blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s lost count of the cuts he’s made but he’s relaxed immensely, the pounding sensation in his mind now a dull hum.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a soft tapping on the door. Cam asks who it is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cam, is everything alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Matt, he sounds worried. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine Matt, it’s nothing.” He lies through his teeth, waiting for the other to go away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of responding, Matt opens the door. It’s like he knew what was happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sees the blood and the box cutter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unlike a normal person he didn’t drop to his knees and cry, he just locked the door behind him and ran the hot faucet instead of the cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Matt picks up a small sponge, warming it then wringing it slightly so it doesn’t drip everywhere, just dampens.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He presses it to Cam’s newest cuts, sighing sadly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sor-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t apologise baby, I get it.” One of Matt’s hands brush over his ribs as he says it, his body shaking from the touches. “Besides, two weeks? I’m proud of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cam nods, he watches Matt proceed with the cleaning and sees he’d brought his bag in with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes a mini first aid kit out and sticks his hand out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I have it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cameron hands him the cat paw shaped boxcutter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This one’s cute.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The skinnier picks out some character bandaids and some wound bonding strips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He applied the strips gently, watching Cam’s face scrunch with slight pain as the stinging from the deeper cuts being pulled together floods his body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He then puts the small hello kitty bandaids over them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All the plain ones were really expensive, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cam nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Matt nods back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls his pants back up and sits for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s go home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Food first, Matty?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Food first.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The car meets with the edge of the curb, Matt sighing as he hops out to grab his chicken salad and Cam’s stir fry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cam sits idly, body present but mind off in some other world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can feel his fresh cuts pressing uncomfortably against his jeans even with the bandaids on, it stung.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stares at his hands, flexing them and clenching them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anything to distract himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Matt climbs back in the car, placing the stir fry on the dashboard in front of Cam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” The taller quietly grumbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Matt nods, his salad resting on the dash as he pulls off the curb and begins driving down the quiet road.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The orange streetlights pour into the vehicle, Cam can’t take his eyes off Matt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He loved orange, it was a beautiful colour, and he loved Matt, who looked breathtaking encased in the amber hues. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His skin looked like marmalade, which reflected him well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cam was broken out of his haze by a soft “eat your dinner..”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took the medium carton of stir fry and peeled off the cardboard lid, the smell wafted through the small car and overwhelmed his senses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cam took the small plastic fork Matt had brought him and began to slowly pick at the meal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His brain was short circuiting and he wasn’t eating properly, playing with his food slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you aren’t hungry put the lid back on, we can eat together at home.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cam lazily pushes the lid back into place, looking forwards out the windshield as he holds the food in his lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The R34 pulls to a stop as he realises they were at his house.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want me to go home?” Matt asks undoing the childlock on the passenger side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please don’t.” Cam tries not to sound needy, but he can’t help himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Matt nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything seems to go blurry and Cam realises he’s sitting on the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He must’ve blacked out when Matt was taking him in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay now?” Matt mutters, hand stroking the side of Cam’s face</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cam gives a questioning “hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got dizzy once you got out the car, I had to help you walk in.” Matt clears the anxious air, reassuring him. “I know you forget stuff when you’re stressed, don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The taller throws himself into Matt, clearly intentional. His head rests against the American’s chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes in his steady breathing and his strong heartbeat. The way his fingers come up to run through his hair. Everything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ready to eat now?” Matt picks up Cam’s stir fry from the coffee table, opening up his salad when he passes it to the other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cam sits up, finally starting to eat, he seems to follow his eating at the same pace Matt breathed, using it as a soothing counting method in his overwhelmed state.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The world is calm now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cameron is calm now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
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